


kisses under the veil

by ameliebookworm (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys Kissing, Emotional Intimacy, Fluff, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), Kissing at Midnight, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot, Room of Requirement, Soft Draco Malfoy, Soft Harry Potter, i just wanted some soft bois ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ameliebookworm
Summary: Harry finds an unexpected guest in the Room of Requirement.Draco finds unexpected comfort in his arch-rival.They both come to accept the unexpected.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 104





	kisses under the veil

**Author's Note:**

> Low-key wrote this when I was sad and touch-starved, so if this sounds a bit overly-dramatic at times... oops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

When Harry entered the Room of Requirement just after midnight, he was surprised to see that the room was already occupied. The fireplace was still roaring, and there was an underlying chill and dampness to the room that he couldn’t explain. There were dark green plush armchairs and sofas all around the room, and impossibly tall bookshelves that Hermione probably would have fawned over.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft snore came from one of the fancy-looking sofas. Harry walked around to the other side and froze. It was Malfoy.

Instinct had his back up and fists clenched, but he shook his head, annoyed with himself. Malfoy wasn’t even awake. It wouldn’t be fair to confront him when he wasn’t even doing anything. Plus, he didn’t much feel like getting into a fight, especially when he could still feel the lingering echoes from tonight’s nightmares. Shuddering and shaking his head, he settled into the armchair opposite where Malfoy lay, pulling his hoodie tighter around herself.

Malfoy was well away, a worn book in his lap where one hand rested lazily against it. His other hand was tucked into his elbow, arm wrapped around himself almost protectively. His usually immaculate pale blonde hair was loose and sticking up oddly, as if he’d been running his hands through it. Some of his fringe fell across his pale forehead, drawing Harry’s attention to the gentle creases between his eyebrows where he would typically be scowling, usually at him. He had on a pair of tartan green pyjama trousers and thick black socks, and his baggy black jumper practically swallowed him in material, the sleeves so long only half of his hands were visible.

It was the most soft and vulnerable he’d ever seen him.

 _'Cute.’_ The little voice in his head whispered.

 _‘Shut up.’_ Harry thought, willing away the flush on his cheeks.

Tearing his gaze away from Malfoy’s uncharacteristically relaxed face, he pulled out his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ and started reading almost on autopilot, the words methodical and repetitive like a mantra. By now he practically knew it backwards, and it felt oddly comforting to be so familiar to the point where he could recite passages to himself no problem. If Hermione were here, she might say something about trying to control the small things to distract himself from the larger problems he couldn’t control. Or she might just call him obsessed and overly dependent. She’d be right, but he wasn’t really in the mood to have the little Hermione voice in his brain lecture him.

Just as he began to feel like he was drifting off, a low whine cut through the silence. Harry sat bolt upright, hand on his rapidly beating heart and eyes snapping to where Malfoy was... still sound asleep. He deflated slightly and sat back down, chastising himself for his own paranoia, but his heart dropped into his stomach when Malfoy made another noise. This time it sounded like he was saying something, but it was too mumble-y for him to make out the words.

The crease between his eyebrows deepened, and his whole face abruptly screwed up as if in pain. He started gasping, writhing and squirming like a wounded animal. He _sounded_ like a wounded animal too. Harry’s heart was in his throat, torn between running away and helping him. It’s not like the git would thank him or anything, but still…

Malfoy suddenly whimpered, sounding broken and scared, more scared than Harry had ever heard him. His mind was made up. But as he went to get up, _Advanced Potion-Making_ slid off of his lap onto the floor, the resulting thump echoing in the vast room. Harry swore under his breath before Malfoy’s eyes shot open and made direct contact with his own.

He went even paler (if that was possible) and blinked rapidly as if he thought Harry was an illusion or a figment of his imagination. When he realised that he was not, in fact, still dreaming, his face twisted into something harsh and cruel. All hard, sharp lines and pointed brows, smoothed out hairlines and darkened eyes. He looked almost like his father, if you ignored the underlying fear in the crease of his brow, the tremble in his frame, the visible bluish-green veins standing out starkly against his thin, pale hands.

“ _Potter!_ ”, he spat.

“Malfoy”, Harry nodded stiffly, at a loss of what to say.

What _can_ you say after you find your arch-rival having a nightmare and looking everything like the terrified child he was ( _they both were_ ) and nothing like the snobby, self-assured git he’d hated for the last five years?

Nothing, apparently. His mouth felt like it was full of dry sand, mind _very helpfully_ pulling a blank. Malfoy seemingly got angrier the longer he kept quiet, but before he could try and string _something_ together, just say _something_ , the blonde stood up with a huff and marched towards the door.

Harry swore. He went after Malfoy, shoving his potions book in his hoodie pocket and keeping his eyes fixed on the back of Malfoy’s head. He left the library just in time to see the other boy turn the corner, ignoring his desperate whisper-shouting. Genuinely annoyed by this point, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his trouser pocket and threw it over himself, chasing Malfoy down one of the quieter corridors with bated breath.

Malfoy glanced behind him to check if he was being followed and exhaled heavily when he thought Harry hadn’t caught up to him. Harry considered hiding a bit longer, but he didn’t want to be out here all night. He lifted the cloak, draping it around his shoulders and frowning at Malfoy. He pretended he didn’t see the brief flash of fear cross Malfoy’s expression. The blonde scowled and leaned back against the wall, valiantly avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Potter?”

Harry heard the message loud and clear. _Go away. Leave me alone. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your sympathy._

He took another step forward. “I have them too. Everyone does. It’s... okay, you know.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Whatever are you on about, Potter?”

“Nightmares.”

Malfoy froze. He smoothed his expression into one of casual distaste and shrugged. “I expect you would, being you. I’d have nightmares too if I had your ugly mug.”

Bizarrely, the insult felt oddly… feeble. Like he didn’t mean it. It didn’t really sting much either. In first year, that was the kind of weak, petty insult that would have really gotten his back up. They’d have probably had their fists out by now. It felt weird to just… talk. Harry went to retort, when he heard the all-too-familiar voice of Filch and the creak of his old lantern, Mrs Norris no doubt on his heels.

He knew Malfoy had heard it too, judging by the way his face tinged green and his eyes widened in panic. Harry lifted up one side of the cloak, gesturing at Malfoy wildly. He stared at him in disbelief. Frustrated, Harry whisper-shouted, “If you want to get caught, be my guest, but I’m giving you an out here, _Malfoy_. Take it or leave it.”

Looking distinctly uncomfortable but clearly unwilling to be caught by Filch, Malfoy ducked under the cloak and let it completely conceal the two of them from view. His elbow jabbed _hard_ into Harry’s side when Filch turned the corner, making him wince, but he managed to stop himself from groaning in pain. They kept stock still when Filch waved his lantern around the corridor, scowling when he saw nothing. Mrs Norris meowed at him, and he shook his head and marched off, muttering darkly under his breath.

The two of them let out twin harsh breaths when the coast was clear, sliding down the wall onto the floor while Harry rubbed at his sore side and Malfoy ran his hands through his hair. The cold stone seeped through their clothes, making them shiver as they not-so-subtly avoided looking at each other directly.

Harry could feel Malfoy’s warm breath in the confines of the cloak, still covering them like a protective veil. Could see his chest move up and down out of the corner of his eye, smell the dust of old books and the warmth of fireplaces that clung to his clothes and hair. It was only when he realised that he’d been staring at Malfoy’s hair that he noticed the blonde staring right back at him.

It was like the air had considerably thickened between them. All heavy and intense and pressure and not-enough-oxygen and too much, too little. It sent a shiver up his spine that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold stone at his back and beneath his shaking hands. Harry’s eyes drifted down to where Malfoy’s left sleeve had ridden up, but a sharp inhale from him had his gaze snapping right back up and fixing on cold blue eyes.

Malfoy turned his body slightly to face him, fringe shifting with the movement. _“Scared, Potter?”_ he asked. Though this time it was a whisper, trembling and terrified and raw. Genuine. Honest. Something he didn’t expect from Malfoy. Though, it seemed there were a lot of unexpected things he was learning about Malfoy tonight.

Harry nodded shakily, but still whispered back, _“You wish.”_

When their lips met, it wasn’t anything like Harry’s kiss with Cho. It was… different. And not in an entirely bad way. He couldn’t tell whether Malfoy was new at this or not, which annoyed him slightly, but when their lips parted for a brief moment and he _felt_ more than _heard_ the soft gasp against his mouth, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Malfoy kissed like he was waiting for a storm. For an explosion, for something loud and wild and crazy. But when Harry’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, the blonde let out a hot, heavy breath and just held on for dear life. Simply letting himself be swept up in the thick, heavy waves of everything _Harry._

Harry could feel eyelashes brushing his cheeks and blunt fingernails digging into his back, glasses moving up his forehead when Malfoy leaned in, slender fingers gliding through his jet-black hair and gently gripping. He pretended he didn’t notice the soft shiver that crawled up his spine at the sensation.

Malfoy shuddered again, bottom lip quivering wetly, and Harry found himself wondering why people always cried when they kissed him. He knew he wasn’t _bad_ , or Malfoy would surely have said something, right? He pulled away gently, keeping his hands on the other boy’s shoulders and gulping when he saw how red-rimmed Malfoy’s eyes were.

Biting back a concerned comment that would probably just make the blonde roll his eyes, Harry asked, “Am I really that bad of a kisser?” Malfoy snorted and wiped his face with his sleeve, averting his eyes when Harry grinned at his poorly hidden smirk. “I wouldn’t know. This is only my second one.”

Harry’s smile dropped. Malfoy noticed almost immediately and scoffed. “Oh, goodness gracious, don’t make that face! It wasn’t even a proper snog, you could barely call it a kiss! Pansy and I both realised we weren’t into it fairly quickly.”

Harry nodded, then mentally backtracked. “Wait, is Pansy… gay?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Never one to beat around the bush, are you, _Potter_?”

Harry flushed indignantly, trying (and failing) not to pout. Malfoy rolled his eyes and sat back against the wall, staring at his knees. “Yes. She is. But don’t tell anyone or she’ll have my head on a stick. She’s scary, that one.”

Harry didn’t object, but asked, “How so?”

Malfoy considered for a moment. “Think Granger, but with significantly _less_ morals and significantly _more_ knowledge of dark magic.”

Harry shuddered. “I won’t say a word.”

Malfoy nodded. “Good.”

“So… should we… head back before Filch makes his rounds again?” Harry twisted his fingers in his sleeve and purposefully focused on a tiny white scar on Malfoy’s chin. He wondered where he’d got it. Harry resolved to ask him some time.

Malfoy shrugged. “You’re the one with the Invisibility Cloak. By the way, I’m guessing this is how you and your little entourage sneak around so much without getting caught. Where’d you even get it?”

Harry sighed and got to his feet with a stretch, allowing the cloak to slip off his shoulders briefly as he ran a hand through his hair. Malfoy shook the pins and needles from his legs before raising an eyebrow pointedly at Harry’s lack of an answer. Harry sighed in frustration. “Dumbledore, alright? It was my dad’s first though. I got it for Christmas back in first year.”

Malfoy nodded, expression thoughtful, before he slipped under the cloak like before. Though this time he was definitely sneaking glances at Harry the whole way back to the common room. Harry would be annoyed if he wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

When they finally reached the Slytherin dorms after walking in intensely awkward silence, they just stared at each other, unsure what to say.

What _do_ you say to your arch-rival that you just snogged the living daylights out of?

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Malfoy gripped his sleeve collar and pulled Harry towards him. They winced at the initial collision but quickly relaxed into the kiss. It was pretty chaste compared to what they did earlier, but to Harry it still felt like he had to force himself to walk away so that he wouldn't be tempted to stand out here snogging all night.

Because he’d already donned the cloak again, he was able to catch a few moments where Malfoy – no, _Draco_ – thought he was alone, brushing his fingers over his pink and kiss-swollen lips. He shook his head with a rare, quiet smile, like he couldn’t quite believe what just happened had really happened. Harry was still processing it too, honestly.

When Draco had gone into the Slytherin common room, Harry headed back towards the Gryffindor dorms. After waking up the Fat Lady and having to say the password three times before she let him in with a rather miffed yawn, he managed to get back up to his room and collapse into bed without waking anyone up. He stashed the Invisibility Cloak in its usual place, slipping _Advanced Potion-Making_ into his bedside drawer and pulling up the duvet.

He stared up at the bedspread in dizzy disbelief, replaying the night’s events in his head over and over again. He grinned despite himself, thinking back to something Draco had said in between kisses, when they’d been in their own little world under the cloak…

* * *

_“I didn’t need your help, Potter.”_

_“Then why were you in there?”_

_“…it’s a room. It doesn’t ask questions.”_

_“I could not ask questions too.”_

_“Yeah, right, you’d explode.”_

_“Maybe. Maybe not.”_

_“Stop talking and kiss me… Harry.”_

_“Alright… Draco.”_

_“I’m starting to think it was a mistake letting you call me by my first name…”_

* * *

Harry covered his giddy smile with his forearm, removing his glasses and sighing at the memory of dark blonde eyelashes tickling his skin and cold hands sinking into the warmth of his hoodie.

He could deal with not asking questions if it meant he got to snog Draco Malfoy in a dark corridor again.

That, at least, he was sure of.

**Author's Note:**

> draco in soft baggy pyjamas is my kryptonite ;-;
> 
> hope you enjoyed!! :)


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